


Bloodsoaked

by Dain



Category: Norse Religion & Lore
Genre: ...of a sort, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Blood, Complicated Relationships, Divination, Gen, Mouth Sewn Shut, Self-Destruction, also fsdfsfgsdf the wordcount was accidental but uh. that's what it is I guess, but you also know that you're never going to love each other any less for it, these two are weird what can I say, when you know you're going to cause each other no end of grief and trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 11:20:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15556569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dain/pseuds/Dain
Summary: Blood and dirt and everything that ties two people together.





	Bloodsoaked

**Author's Note:**

> As you may have gathered from the title and summary, there's a lot of blood and injury in this one.

Bloody fingers fumbled with the leather in his mouth, clumsy with desperation. The stitches had been pulled tight, dragging against his wounds, and his unsteady fingers only seemed to make it worse; but there would be a way. He could not be silenced for long.

There: a finger caught. He managed to wriggle it between his lips, beneath the stitching, and find purchase. Giving himself no time to think, he pulled.

The initial sewing had been slow and methodical, every hole carefully placed, every stitch perfectly neat. He had been held down, unable to struggle or bite as his mouth was slowly, inexorably drawn closed as if it were a wound in need of healing. He’d needed to concentrate just to stop himself from inhaling his own blood.

The initial sewing had been slow and methodical, and so the destruction of the craftsman’s work had to be just the opposite. He made it quick and messy and reckless, savoring the harsh tearing sensation of his own flesh for the simple pleasure of making the wounds his own. It took a few sharp wrenches on the leather thong to completely remove it, but then he was free, every gasp of air stinging his tattered lips. Blood spattered against the dirt floor of the empty stable stall, painting a stark future where it landed.

The leather hung limp and bloody from his fingers for just a moment before it dropped to the ground.

Loki finally looked up as Odin stepped into the stall. He had Gungnir gripped in one hand and Draupnir glinting on his wrist, but otherwise he was dressed plainly. It was instinct for Loki to smile blithely, set his humor at odds with the situation, but the smile disappeared into pain before it had properly begun.

His defenses had been shredded.

Odin moved forward silently, pausing only to rest Gungnir against one of the walls. He knelt down in front of Loki, his eye focused on the blood spatter between them, reading the story they told of victories not yet won and betrayals not yet carried out. After a moment his gaze moved from the floor to Loki and he reached out to grasp Loki’s chin with one hand, tilting his head up so as to better see his mouth. Loki didn’t bother trying to resist, instead watching as his own blood speckled his brother’s skin.

“Have you learned your lesson?” Odin asked, his voice quiet and rough all at once.

“Yes,” Loki said. “The knife would have been faster.” The words slurred together, half-formed, as he tried not to move his lips. With luck, he’d have full use of them again once they healed.

Odin snorted and released him, leaning back to sit on his haunches. “Not quite so silver-tongued anymore, are you? You should go to Eir; I’m sure she won’t turn you away.” There was something mocking, challenging, _inviting_ in his voice and narrowed eye.

Loki laughed back, sending droplets of blood flying. “Only if I give her the opportunity,” he managed. He would rather allow Asgard to see the price of their treasures. Watching him struggle to eat might amuse them, but underneath that amusement would be something a little guiltier. Perhaps he would keep scars on his mouth as a memento, to make sure they never forgot.

“Opportunity,” Odin murmured, his gaze falling back to the blood that lay between them. He reached out and brushed his hand over the dirt, very deliberately smearing the bloodstains and obscuring their portents. He then held his hand out, now covered with blood and dirt, out towards Loki.

Sitting in the dirt, surrounded by the scent and sounds of horses, they clasped bloody hands, speaking no words but understanding each other nonetheless.

Loki finally allowed his lips to stretch into a smile, ignoring the painful throb of his own heartbeat and the fresh taste of blood in his mouth as the two of them plunged headfirst into their future, whatever it may hold.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr at [autisticthirteen](http://autisticthirteen.tumblr.com/); feel free to come say hi and talk to me about Norse mythology (or really anything)!


End file.
